


ouroboros

by marginaliana



Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: Breathplay, M/M, Other, PWP, Pretentious, Snake!Crowley - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-22
Updated: 2019-06-22
Packaged: 2020-05-16 05:37:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 325
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19311718
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/marginaliana/pseuds/marginaliana
Summary: he can't breathe, he doesn't need to breathe but hecan't breathe





	ouroboros

scales against his skin, texture unnameable but unmistakably there, present, the lip of each one over the next and the next like the unsteady tick of eternity passing

bare arm and chest and neck and around, around, a scarf if it were winter, pulled tight

tighter

he can't breathe, he doesn't need to breathe but he _can't breathe_ , he's trapped here, he doesn't want to leave and now he's trapped

he can be human like this, or close enough, or something new

he can be kept

Crowley's tongue curling into his ear, whispering something, nothing, whispering air

sharing heat, whose with whose

the tip of Crowley's tail against his lips, pressing in, and he gasps with air he doesn't have

two fangs gently pricking his earlobe, a reminder, an instruction

he closes his mouth on the tail and sucks, tastes animal warmth

they are both animals, bodies, flesh to flesh

Crowley undulating around his throat

showing him, guiding him

the marks on him won't last but he'll make the bruises stay in memory until the next time

tail slipping against his tongue, slick heavy

Crowley's body so long, slithering down his chest like rope falling

tongue moving over all the soft places, exploring the shadows under the pouch of his stomach, delicately on the skin of his thighs

leaving a trail of sigils that tickles and burns

fangs hidden but never forgotten, tools to bite, the threat of displeasure

as much love here as he's ever felt

hold me, hold me, keep me here with you

bury me in your coils

let me die as part of you, neither more nor less nor exactly half

let us not die, not end, let my mouth be your mouth, ouroboros

Crowley, Crowley

(he can't breathe, he doesn't need to breathe but he _can't breathe_ )

his mind is fog, condensation, breath, all that he needs

Crowley, Crowley

(divine, divine, this can be nothing less)

Crowley, don't let go

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [i can't breathe [art]](https://archiveofourown.org/works/22062148) by [Tyrograph](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tyrograph/pseuds/Tyrograph)




End file.
